


Your Blood Is On My Hands (And In My Mouth)

by jacarsia



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Barebacking, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, F/M, First Kiss, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pining, Rebirth, Rough Sex, Vampire Turning, Violence, background/implied Andrew/Adam, major charcater death (sort of)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacarsia/pseuds/jacarsia
Summary: There were not very many people that Shane had openly told about his ‘condition’ or the context surrounding it, but Ryan Bergara was more than just another person to him, so it made sense for him to know the origin of his turning along with his daily needs.It worried him sometimes, just how many vampires Ryan hung around, those whos characters he didn't know or didn't want to know. He was smart though, he loved life and was too scared of the supernatural for Shane to ever have to worry about him choosing to leave behind his mortality.He had never thought that Ryan would end up in a situation where he didn't get to choose.
Relationships: Adam Bianchi & Andrew Ilnyckyj, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Shane Madej/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	Your Blood Is On My Hands (And In My Mouth)

**Author's Note:**

> In some chapters there will be notes that have facts on the vampires of this universe; these will cover things like the turning process, teeth, different conditions vampires can have, and so on. If there are ever chpters or explanations that do not make sense, let me know and I'll do my best to correct them.

When Shane had gone into his bathroom that night for a late shower, he had had no inclination that anything would be different after he got out, that everything that happened wouldn’t follow the same pattern it always had: he would get out, perform good oral hygiene like any other responsible adult, get dressed, then perhaps scroll through social media for a while on his phone or read another chapter or two in his book while Obi curled up against his side before finally going to bed. He was a simple man with relatively few needs, and the thought of such a relaxing end to his day was more than enough to satisfy him. Unfortunately for him, the world had never been too kind to him, holding some sort of grudge against the gangly man it intended to poke at that night.

He had just gotten out of the shower, a shirt he got from a concert back in the 80’s sticking to his still damp torso, protecting his chest from the temperature shock of his cold bathroom, its fabric worn yet undeniably soft from its years of usage. A plain pair of boxer briefs he had grabbed at random keeping the rest of what really mattered covered and warm as he brushed his teeth. _All of them_.

He looked himself in the mirror as he ran his tongue over each individual tooth, appreciating their smooth texture as he made sure they were thoroughly cleaned. Letting his head roll back to stretch out his neck once he was satisfied, his mouth stretching wide in a big enough yawn to crack his jaw and leave it tingling. He had just reached up to pull his upper lip back when he heard his ringtone bellow out of his phone's speaker in the next room, causing him to turn towards the sound, contemplating leaving to go and grab it, but deciding that whoever was calling could wait another minute or two until he was finished. He would call them back as soon as he was done.

He pulled his upper lips back as far as he could without using his fingers, sending his reflection a snarl as he allowed his canines to shift in his gums, lengthening and coming to a sharp point; he ran his tongue carefully over the fangs. He had to use a different brush to clean them then he used on his other teeth, the bristles were more fine, less rough and thinner, it always amused him that these sensitive things could slice through skin and hold someone in place as well as they did. They reminded him of a Saber-toothed Tiger in a way, how their teeth were what caught people’s attention as well as their food, but in the end were a key determination in the downfall of their species.

The only difference was he was not going extinct anytime soon.

Once he was done Shane moved into his bedroom, stretching as he made his way over to his bed and sat down on its side, he intended to move further up onto the mattress when a small blur of orange leapt up from the ground and landed beside him. A smile came to his face as he ran a hand over Obi’s soft coat, enjoying the small cat’s presence as he rubbed himself against his side, pushing up into his palm and purring happily at the attention his owner was giving him. Shane had completely forgotten about his phone until he glanced up and saw the flashing green light on his bedside table.

The smile stretched across his face as he picked up the device quickly faded into a frown once he opened his phone, the display showing he had several missed calls. They were all from the same person, a total of seven that had all been made in the last twelve or so minutes.

It was not like Ryan at all to call him that many times, sure, there was the occasional times he would spam him with a series of tests, perhaps following the messages with a call if he was honestly trying to get an answer from him and Shane had not responded fast enough for his liking, but it was never this many outright calls, especially not in such a short time frame. The break from normality was more than enough to get his fingers quickly moving to unlock the phone and pull up his contact, a sick feeling rising in the back of his through as he noted that all of the calls followed the last by no more than a minute or two, and the longest break had been after the most recent one. Four minutes had gone by since the last call.

A new call popped up on his screen just as he moved to call Ryan himself, his thumb hitting the accept icon before he had even registered moving, the phone coming up to his ear just as fast.

“Ryan?” There was nothing for the first few seconds, and Shane could feel his pulse begin to pick up as something foul settled in his stomach, something was not right. The quiet shuffle of fabric filtering through the phone’s speakers and a soft, breathy exhale were the only signs that someone was on the other side of the line.

“Shane?” He sounded extremely groggy, like he was only half awake or not totally sober, and as soon as the idea that Ryan had drunk called him came to mind, Shane instantly felt the tension that had built in his shoulders begin to drain away, a thankful sigh pushing its way past his lips. Normally Shane was the one who got clingy and called his friends when he had had one too many drinks, but seeing how late it was on a Wednesday of all days it would make sense that he would call the only person he knew would be awake at this time.

Even as the edges of his lips curled into a relieved smile, the feeling of unease resting in his stomach refused to go away.

“Yeah man, it's me. You havin’ a fun night over there? I don’t think you’ve ever called me this many-”

“It’s Michael . . Shane . . .Michael, he-” The soft smile he wore slowly slipped away again with every word, the more he spoke the less drunk he sounded. It was nothing like the way he normally spoke when he was two sheets to the wind and wanting to ramble, not like he didn’t know what words he should be using next and more as though he was struggling with getting any syllables out in the first place. He was speaking with a slight lisp he had never heard before, bordering on a hiss, the sound slipping in almost like his tongue was ignoring his brain telling it to move; or like it hurt to speak.

Shane was not sure what disturbed him the most, the idea that Ryan was in pain or the underlying panic in his trembling voice. He sat straighter against his mattress, hand tightening on the phone.

“What about him? Ryan, are you okay?” There was a whimper on the other side of the line, and it took him a few seconds to realize that the sound had come from _Ryan_ , a bitten off noise of _agony_.

“No, no Shane ‘m not,” he took a shaky breath, groaning in the back of his throat like he was trying to hold it back, “. . .he bit me . . .” Shane was sure that if he could get a look at himself in the mirror he would be as white as a sheet, the words washing over him feeling like a punch straight to the kidneys, stealing all of the air from his lungs and leaving him completely breathless, a suffocating weight building in his chest. He had to force himself to take a breath for the first time in ages, steadying himself before he spoke.

“What do you mean he bit you? He’s fed off you before, hasn’t he?” Shane knew what Ryan had meant, deep down he knew that he would not have bothered calling him over a simple feeding, something he had done multiple times before in the last two and a half years, but he was clinging to the hope nonetheless. “Did he bite too deep or in a weird spot or-”

“ . . we weren’t- wasn’t a . . . no Shane, not feeding . . he fuckin’ bit me and . . an left.” He sat forward on his bed, the shift in his position rousing Obi from his sleep and causing him to let out a soft annoyed sound that Shane completely ignored, his body feeling stiff and colder than he was used to. There were so many emotions in Ryan’s voice it was hard to decipher what he was feeling, a mix or desperation and frustration that Shane had not understood what he had tried to say, anger at his boyfriend for biting him, a slight edge of hysteria at the fact that he was _completely alone_ (somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that one of Ryan’s roommates worked nights and the other was over at his girlfriends for the week).

Shane felt stupid for how slowly everything was sinking in for him, but before he could ask for any clarifications Ryan’s low voice was speaking again.

“I didn’t realize . . . at first . .” Shane could feel the weight in his chest start to shift, anger of his own beginning to merge with the concern that was flooding his capillaries, the grip on his phone tightening as he felt his fangs twitch under his gums, longing to drop down and sink into the piece of shit that bailed after trying to _turn Ryan._

_Who knew how badly that newling had screwed up?_

“He fucking bit you than ran off? What the actual fuck? Christ Ryan, why did you- he’s way too young to be turning people. You two should have talked about this a hell of a lot more and- fuck! _You’re_ too young Ryan, why the fuck would you even consider-?”

“ . . . didn’t ask.” The two words were enough to completely stop the rising anger boiling away in his blood as well as his heart, a wave of cold horror hitting him like a freight train and leaving him unable to form anything more intelligent than a whispered:

“What?” Not a single muscle in Shane’s body dared to move as he waited, listening in the most tense silence of his life as more shuffling of fabric came from Ryan’s end, something like a scratching sound breaking the silence before he groaned and a soft thud kick started his heart again. A hiss broke through the speaker following the thud, each sound only causing the cold to sink deeper into his bones.

“He didn’t . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t want him to, he- _fuck,_ ” it was that whine, a bubbling sound that leapt out of Ryan’s throat that had Shane on his feet, rushing towards his dresser without a second thought as he quickly searched for a pair of pants to throw on, “he didn’t ask Shane.” It was all he needed to hear for that feeling of unease that had been steadily growing in his stomach to lurch up towards his throat, causing him to grab onto his dresser as he was hit with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

He could not remember feeling true and honest _fear_ like this since the Cold War, the horror of the situation drying up his throat and killing any words he could possibly imagine saying.

“Shane?”

_Jesus Christ, not Ryan, for the love of God not Ryan._

“Mój Boże, Jezus chrystusie, nie-” he ran a hand through his hair, tangling his fingers through the strands and giving them a hard enough tug, the sudden shock of pain enough to snap him out of his daze and bring him back to the present, hastily grabbing the first pair of bottoms his hand landed on, “Fuck Ryan, when did this happen?” He hit the button on his phone to put the call on speaker, using both of his hands to pull the jeans he had grabbed up the long expanse of his legs.

“Twenty minutes?” Shane snatched up the phone as soon as the denim was up to his hips, ignoring his open zipper and the undone button as he raced out of his room, “‘m not entirely sure . . everything’s slow and . . . wobbly.” He hesitated in the arch way of his living room, momentarily uncertain if he had enough time to call and Uber and get over to Ryan’s or if he would make better time _running there_ (it had been well over thirty years since he had ran as fast or as far as he would need to, and who knew how many people were out and about with cameras to catch him). He checked the time on the call and quickly added up the time he was aware of, figuring that Ryan’s estimate was likely off by anywhere from five to ten minutes. There was too much importance riding on how long he took for Shane to put enough faith in someone random stranger.

“I’m going to be there as soon as possible, just hold tight, okay?” It was dangerous for Ryan to be alone right now, turning someone was not a simple task and it was more than easy to do something wrong, resulting in a variety of deaths for the one unfortunate enough to be turned by someone inexperienced. He needed to make sure that Ryan stayed awake to tell him how he was feeling, he needed a gauge on how bad the situation was so he would not be totally blindsided once he arrived.

“Kay,” Shane sat his phone down momentarily to lace his shoes as quickly as he could, grabbing his keys and all but throwing himself outside of it, only bothering with locking it behind him for Obi’s sake.

“I’m leaving my apartment right now-“

“Don’ hang up . . please, ‘m scared Shane.” The words nearly stole the wind from him before he could even begin running, an unexpected stinging arising in the back of his eyes at the desperation in his voice alone, he had made a living out of listening to Ryan being scared by dangers that were never really there, but now he was forced to listen to Ryan terrified by a very real and very prevenient danger Shane had not done a good enough job protecting him from.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Shane took a deep breath, partly to steady himself and partly to prepare for the next few minutes, and, after a quick glance around the area to make sure no one could see him, he began to run towards Ryan’s apartment.

* * *

The amount of people who had made their way through Shane’s long life and learned the story of how his immortal one began, how he was turned, was less than a handful, the majority having passed on fifty or so years ago, around the time he came to America. The group of people who knew that he was a vampire was much larger, and made primarily up of those he was unable to hide it from, people that had lost their mortality just like him, or had never had it to begin with. Vampires had a distinct smell to them, one that could not be misidentified for a human, the scents varied in intensities (the older a vampire the less potent, the younger the more overwhelming) but all carried the same stale properties, nothing like the rich and healthy smell of regular people.

To sum it up, there were not very many people that Shane had openly told about his ‘condition’ or the context surrounding it, but Ryan Bergara was more than just another person to him, so it made sense for him to know the origin of his turning along with his daily needs.

Shane had developed a hunch that Ryan was aware of the existence of vampires like himself not too long after they began working together, sitting across from one another when they first became interns at Buzzfeed. It originally came to his attention when Shane had playfully teased one of their coworkers when he caught her reading some cheesy romance novel with an overly dramatic depiction of a sexy man feeding off a petite girl on the cover. Ryan had outright refused to jump in and comment on the choice reading material, seeming extremely uncomfortable by the situation at hand, the smallest of ticks present every time the word “vampire” was used.

Shane assumed that Ryan had probably read something similar, or once been into the whole over sexualization of vampires in media at one point and did not want to unintentionally out himself, so he dropped it.

The second thing that stood out to him, however, he could not let go as easily. Once they began Unsolved and Shane was forced to sit through the shoots and be tormented by a variety of absurd stories and ludicrous theories to go along with them, he had figured that at some point Ryan would choose a theory that brought vampires into the mix. 

It never happened. 

He simply ignored any and all ‘evidence’ that pointed at blood suckers as a culprit, which was more than a little shocking to Shane, considering he had once researched ideas of _zombies_ and the _lost city of Atlantis_ , in comparison, vampires did not seem all that farfetched, especially with some of the more bloody murder cases they discussed.

More than a few times, once they were done filming and he had gone home, Shane had fired up Google and spent his own time reading up on some of the cases, and often enough he ran across a theory or two about vampires. The ideas ranged from a starving vampire taking too much blood in its hunger and accidently killing its victim, having to disguise it as a more gruesome murder (Black Dalia, it really only explained why she was so pale), all the way to a ‘crypt’ of vampires kidnapping people to either turn them or feed off them (Shane remembers laughing out loud at that one).

None of them ever came up in the episodes though. Shane had lived through all of the cases they had discussed, he had heard about a few of them when they occurred, some of them he even believed to have had some vampire involvement.

Than of course there were the God awful movies that came out about vampires, either casting them as bloodthirsty creatures hell bent on sinking their fangs into someone and ripping out their throat, or bending some busty woman over the nearest flat surface and sinking their teeth into them while getting it on. Shane found them hilarious instead of offensive, unlike many vampires he had met, and because Ryan was just as much a film geek as he was, he often pulled the younger man along with him to watch the train wrecks. 

He acted differently when they saw these kinds of films, seeming puffed up and annoyed at what he had just watched, like _he_ was offended by it (granted many of the films were so bad it was understandable). Their discussions afterwards consisted of him trying his best to avoid using the word vampire, practically walking on eggshells like he was afraid of saying something wrong and hurting someone’s feelings. 

It unnerved Shane, sometimes, it was as if Ryan knew and was trying not to say anything that could potentially cross any lines.

There was no way that Ryan knew he was a vampire, but it was completely possible that he knew someone else who was. Shane had met his roommates before, in the number of times he had had to drag a truly buzzed Bergara home after some celebration or work function he had never smelt anything on them that indicated they were anything but unhygienic twenty-something year old ex frat boys. And while there was one other vampire working with them at Buzzfeed, it was rare to hear him speak more than a few sentences at a time and Ryan really didn’t know anything more than his name and shy nature. 

It would take a little over two years of working with the man at Buzzfeed until the final missing pieces fell into place.

In September of 2017, Shane knew he had found the vampire in Ryan’s life when Jake Bergara walked on set for his promised appearance.

He had been sitting alone at the table they were using that day to film the Room 1046 Postmortem, scrolling through his phone to make sure he had all of the questions he wanted to use in the episode screenshotted and saved in their own little folder so he would not have to go scrolling through his photos and risk Ryan looking over and seeing something no one wanted to see on their coworkers phone (not like he had many pictures like that to begin with).

The door to the recording room they were in opened, and at first he didn’t see the need to lift his head, he could already tell Ryan had walked into the room, even if he hadn’t entered mid laugh and filled the quiet room with his sudden and loud laughter, he would have been able to tell who it was by the smell alone. The only thing he could think to compare the heavy scent of the B positive blood rushing through his thin veins to was teriyaki, the sharp way it invaded the senses with its promise of spice and the way it made one's mouth water; there were a few people in the building with the same blood type, but they lacked the intensity and heat Ryan’s had.

It was not Ryan that made him look up,however, it was the presence of someone like him that caught his attention, causing him to peer up and follow his nose until he landed on the slimmer body of Jake, who was being lead through the small space by his older brother as he introduced him to their friends behind the scenes.

The first thing he noticed as he watched the two move about was how young Jake was, not just in appearance, but in scent, which was nearly overbearing with how fresh it was, like a raw fish. It could not have been more than a few years since he had been turned, and since Shane had never gotten any whiff of vampire off of Ryan before there was absolutely no way he had been born this way either. 

The second thing he noticed was that he shared Ryan’s bright and unabashed grin, the one that stretched their lips wide and showed off all of their teeth, it was all he needed to confirm that Jake was a very young vampire. The only people who were ever brave (though foolish, or inexperienced might work better in this situation) to reveal that much of their mouth without worrying about accidentally letting teeth too sharp to be human poke through were those who had been born with them and thus mastered them well into their childhoods, or youngsters who didn't know any better and were not properly instructed to hide them.

It was a nice smile, a wide and inviting sight that lit up the entire room, but after deducing what he had it only filled him with second hand anxiety, memories of how terrified he had been when he was young of someone seeing his fangs flashing behind his eyes. Then Ryan turned towards Shane, directing his brother over to the table to introduce the two of them, the smile that had been gracing Jake’s face dimming ever so slightly after he had taken a few steps forward, recognition crossing his face.

There was no doubt that he was close enough to finally catch his own faded scent, something old and musky that could not be misidentified as anything else; he was sure that Jake must have been surprised to realize his brother’s best friend was not only like himself, but practically _ancient_.

Shane gave him the most subtle nod he could pull off without raising any suspicions on Ryan’s part, standing up from his seat with his own wide smile as he stepped around the table and reached out to shake the younger man’s hand and properly introduce himself.

Before they could actually begin filming, while they were waiting for people to check over the recording equipment and test the mics, Ryan and Shane got into some sort of argument over something that the elder didn’t really care all that much about. He honestly couldn’t remember what it was, something trivial that he only pushed to try and get a rise out of his co host; which would always be one of the highlights of his day.

It wasn’t anything serious, it rarely ever was, but by the end of it Shane was basically radiating a smug glee that had the other inhabitants of the room rolling their eyes as he grinned cockily over at a pouting Ryan. The look quickly turned into a glare that did nothing but encourage Shane’s delight, sparking a sudden and intense desire to do something to get back at him. His eyes instantly landed on the cup of coffee that was sitting on the table, leaving Shane with only a split second to respond once he recognized the mischief swimming in his dark eyes and noticed where Ryan’s gaze had landed.

He had snagged the cup off the table faster than he could reasonably grab for it -of course Shane could have gotten to it first if he had actually tried- a flabbergasted _“Hey!”_ tumbling out of his mouth as Ryan turned away from him in his chair and practically began chugging the drink. Shane had to stand up and drape himself over the back of Ryan in order to reach down and snatch the cup back from him, recognizing, to his despair, that he had drunk at least half of what he had had left. He shoved Ryan’s shoulder in fake anger, the smile on his lips as he dropped back into his seat betraying him.

“You piece of shit.”

When Ryan turned back to him he was trying to swallow the mouthful of coffee he still had, trying not to choke on it or spit it out as he forced himself to calm down, shoulders shaking in laughter and eyes watering from the effort of holding it in. He unfortunately was not able to get all of it down, a little dribbling down his chin; he reached up and wiped it off with his hand, and, because he was apparently feeling especially petty, leaned over and used Shane’s shirt sleeve as a napkin.

“Asshole!”

They were both laughing at their antics, as were a few other crew members, Ryan’s face radiating happiness as he fell back in his chair and laughed himself silly, his face taking on a dark red hue. Out of the corner of his eye Shane caught a flurry of expressions flash across Jake’s face, beginning with something worrisome, moving on more towards shock, and finally settling on relief. At the time he had not exactly had a chance to mull over the odd display of emotion, but later that night when he was writing down all of his favorite moments of the day he realized what had happened, and concluded that Jake could quite honestly be the model modern day vampire.

Throughout his years Shane had run into many of those who chose to mix up their diets by adding the blood their bodies needed to function to a number of things, most commonly it was some sort of drink. He had tried a few iterations of infused food items and drinks in his life, his personal favorite was probably a _truly_ Blood Mary (but that was more because the idea of what it was actually made of gave him some sick sense of joy), with old fashioned porridge or pudding coming in behind it. The majority of the vampires he had met that chose this route of getting their food were either so old they were bored of the traditional ways, or were so young that they still were not completely desensitized to sinking their teeth into another living creature.

Shane had been around the tracks before they were even placed down, and while he had spent a good portion of that time sleeping and eating, he still was not bored of either. He had tried just about every form of feeding he had come across and was morally comfortable with, and while he did indulge in some newer forms of feeding (primarily through a bag, it was so much easier that way) he was more than content with a black coffee in the morning and something with a heartbeat as a late night snack.

Jake must not have felt the same.

Once they started filming and Jake had finally been given permission to jump into the episode alongside them, Shane could not help but notice every little detail of his and his brother’s interactions. Jake had brought his own drink to the table, and multiple times throughout the shoot he noticed Ryan subconsciously reaching over for the beverage when his little brother was looking away, only to pause with his fingers barely brushing the cup. Later that night when he had the time to mull over everything he came up with two hypotheses: Jake was turned in recent years, and Ryan must have stolen his drinks like many siblings did and was still trying to kick the habit because they were now infused.

He figured that was why Jake had seemed so surprised when Ryan had not immediately thrown up after stealing his coffee; if he was anything like his brother he would want to be around people like himself, people who understood what he was going through: aka younger vampires. Younger vampires who mostly likely also drank infused or substitute beverages.

It was odd; Shane had learned through the years that sometimes it didn’t matter how much dedication you put into one thing, sometimes things just didn’t work out how you would like it to. People didn’t like you back. Friendships faded away. Skills didn’t develop. 

Things remained unsolved, and he was fine with that.

But for some reason he couldn’t let this go; he needed to know the story behind Jake’s turning. He needed to know what Ryan thought of other vampires, and what he would think if he knew his best friend was one as well.

* * *

By the time Shane had finally arrived at the apartment building he knew his friend was currently suffering in, Ryan was getting fewer words out over the phone, and though there was not much he had been able to hear very clearly with how fast he was moving, he was still terrified that he may lose consciousness before he could get to him. He rushed into the lobby as quickly as he could allow himself, not wanting to move too quickly and draw the attention of anyone that could possibly be inside, holding himself back even more as he raced up the stairs, knowing that the building had cameras that actually worked littered throughout it.

“Hey man, is your door unlocked? Is there any way you could get to the door and unlock it?” It took several seconds for Ryan to answer him, Shane’s heart racing away in his ribcage as more fear gripped him, skipping steps until he eventually hit the right level.

“Can’t stand.” Shane cursed under his breath, flying down the hallway without any care of disturbing the other occupants of the floor, practically skidding to a stop in front of the door to Ryan’s apartment. He reached for the handle and twisted it, momentarily stunned when it turned all the way and the door opened with a clear click, the force he put behind it causing him to stumble a little past the threshold. _The asshat must not have locked it when he ran off like a fucking coward._

It was not until he was inside the entrance hallway and was shutting the door behind him that he realized that Ryan had gone completely silent, not the slightest of sounds coming through the phone’s receiver. Shane tried to slide it into his pocket as he rushed down the hall, paying no mind to it as it slipped from his hands and landed on the hardwood, it didn’t matter to him anymore. As soon as he had opened the door he had been slapped in the face by the sharp smell of blood, but it was not the sweet, mouthwatering scent that he normally picked up from Ryan, it was sour and tainted, almost making his eyes water with how pungent it was.

He followed the trail it had left up the stairs to where he knew all of the bedrooms were, he had just begun turning the corner at the top when he stopped dead in his tracks, a cold wave washing over him as he took in the scene.

At the end of the hall was the door to Ryan’s bedroom, from what he could see it looked like it was barely hanging on by its hinges, a large crack running down the middle of it, the jagged edges of the wood splattered in blood, the golden handle practically coated in it. All across the hallway the crimson liquid made an appearance, handprints and other smears easily standing out against white paint, blood running all the way down to the floor from some of the larger stains on the wall, a series of small puddles of it leading towards the largest of them all where a frighteningly pale Ryan Bergara was hunched over his knees.

Shane only had to take a step before he was dropping down in front of his friend, reaching for his head and tilting it up so he could look over his face, a breath of relief rushing out of him when Ryan squinted up at him, eyes lidded and bleary.

“took ya long ‘nough . .” The halfhearted complaint startled a breathless laugh from him, one of his hands moving down to gently grab at his shoulder and lean him back against the wall while the other kept his head stable, being sure he was not moving fast enough to make him dizzy. Once Ryan was settled back against the wall, his head completely supported by Shane, the older man noticed the bloody handprints higher on the wall above them all at different heights, figuring he had tried multiple times to stand up and had not been successful.

“Did he finish the bite?” He had only been there for a few minutes, but every second he was not spending looking over Ryan’s injuries and trying to better assess the situation were seconds he would not be able to get back if things were as bad as he feared they were. Ryan tried to shake his head no, but the small motion was enough to silence him, his eyes squeezing shut as he gritted his teeth in sudden pain, starbursts behind his eyelids.

Shane gave him the time he needed to gather up enough strength to talk, powering through his apparent agony as he tipped his head to the side as cautiously as possible, finally getting a good look at the side of his neck where all the blood was coming from, soaking his shoulder, chest, and even his chin and arms.

He had seen a lot of bites in his life, on people who had both lived and died from the attacks, and the sight of this one alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach. _The last time I saw this much blood from a bite a woman was missing a chunk of her fucking windpipe._

“I pushed him away . . . when I realized . . ” Shane would never know if he planned on saying anything more, the words meant nothing to him as he took in the gore of his friend’s flesh, equally parts shocked and horrified at just how _bad_ it was.

It was covered in so much blood, most of it dried and caked over the gnarled skin, thus hiding much of the bite, but what was visible was mangled to say the least. It was extremely deep, just a few inches over and it would have severed the carotid artery and Ryan would have been dead long before Shane had picked up his phone. The top portion of the bite, where the upper fangs would have dug in, was where the depth came from, he had known that Michael had rather large fangs (around the same length as his own), designed to hold something in place and cause as much damage as possible, which was exactly what he had done. There were marks from his other teeth as well, showing just how hard he had bitten down, probably all the way into the muscle in some spots, the holes made by fangs jagged from where he had torn at the skin and ripped him open.

The underbite of the wound was what worried him the most, however, and had more than likely drawn the majority of the blood he was seeing, there were multiple punctures from the lower (smaller) canines, and when he tried to wipe away some of the dried blood it began to bleed sluggishly once again without the clots to keep it contained. He whispered an apology to Ryan before pushing down around some of the holes, biting his own lip as he listened to him whimper, watching as clear fluid, the venom, began leaking out of the punctures. From the looks of things Michael had bitten down and tried to hold Ryan still, not expecting him to fight back and dislodge his bottom teeth, causing him to bite down even harder a second time in an attempt to get his lower canines embedded in his neck. It would explain the multiple punctures on the lower half of the bite, and the abnormally violent tearing and depth.

Shane flinched ever so slightly as fingers loosely wrapped around his wrist, turning his focus back on Ryan as a whole instead of just his injuries, taking in his pale face and the way he was struggling to keep his eyes open, it was enough to drag him back into the present.

It also cemented what he already knew; what he would have to offer and what he would have to _do_.

“It's bad . . right?” Shane could hear his friend’s heart rate begin to pick up, and as much as he wanted to offer him some sort of relief, get him to calm down, there was no use denying what was right in front of the both of them. Coming up with a convincing fib would have been a waste of the little time he had anyways.

“There isn’t much I can do to fix this Bergara,” he was hoping that the nickname would provide the smallest sliver of comfort, looking him in the eyes as he forced himself to continue, “but whatever I do I need to do it now.” He could smell Ryan’s blood changing as he sat there, a disgusting rot consuming what had once been a delectable scent, making his nausea even more prevalent.

“Options?” It was obvious that he had struggled just to get the one word out, and Shane realized in that moment that if he did not hurry up and open his mouth that he may never be able to hear Ryan’s voice outside of a video ever again.

“I can bite you, fully turn you into a vampire,” he wanted to comment on how shitty of a job his boyfriend had done (turning someone was not exactly a simple process, but screwing it up as badly as Michael had done took a certain level of skill), but he didn’t have the time, “or I don’t bite you and you die.” Ryan squeezed his eyes shut at the bluntness of the words, using the little strength he had to turn his head and try to hide the way his bottom lip trembled, his shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

Shane understood, he truly and honestly did, being told that your only choice was to live for the rest of eternity, leeching off others, or die was not something anyone ever expected to hear, but they were running out of time and he would never forgive himself if he let Ryan pass away without doing everything he could.

“Ryan, I need you to tell me what you want to do. I won’t turn you if you don’t give me permission, I can’t-“

“Do it.” He released the hold he had on Shane’s wrist, sliding his hand up his arm until it was resting on his shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of his neck where he applied the slightest amount of pressure, trying to ease him closer. Ryan shuffled somewhat to the side, groaning under his breath as he slowly tilted his head to the side, baring the unscathed portion of his neck to Shane, who could not help but lean forward and press his nose against the skin.

He could still smell hints of his aftershave under the thick stench of blood and sweat, and it was not until that moment, when he was reaching for Ryan’s shoulder to help steady him that he noticed he was shirtless, a worn pair of basketball shorts the only item of clothing covering him. The hand on his shoulder slid up into his hair while the other found a place against Shane’s ribs, the touches sending a series of shivers rocketing through his body, he mentally growled at himself for how distracted he was.

“Are you sure? I need to hear you say yes.” He had always been one to excessively stretch the importance of consent, some might even call it a hangup, but this situation was much more intimate in every way then sex ever could be. Shane knew what it was like to not fully understand the consequences of losing the blessing that was mortality, but he couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like not having a choice in the matter whatsoever, and while he recognized that Ryan honestly _didn’t_ have much of a choice, he still couldn’t make himself bite until he was given that permission.

“Yes . . . ‘m sure Shane . . . ” He could feel the muscles under Ryan’s skin begin to loosen up and relax, could feel him slumping further back along the wall while his head fell against his chest; it sent a fresh wave of terror through him, telling him he no longer had any time to waste.

 _Proszę wybacz mi._

Shane’s mouth was dropping open before he could even try vocalizing his apology, the words staying in his mind as his tongue quickly swiped across a short expanse of Ryan’s skin, his fangs instantly dropping at the touch. He noted the lack of heat but spent no more than a fraction of a second thinking about it, dragging his teeth across the area he had cleaned, making sure it lined up and he could feel the pulse of veins and capillaries below him before he finally metaphorically, and physically bit the bullet.

Ryan seemed to jerk to life against him, the fingers in his hair curly and pulling as new waves of pain raced through him, his whimpers plucking at Shane’s heart strings, mixing with the sickening crack of his upper fangs tearing through the dense muscle of his neck, his lower teeth scraping lightly across his skin, barely enough to draw any blood to the surface.

He tried to do it as quickly as he comfortably could, ignoring the feeling of skin parting beneath his teeth, the way they easily sliced through the thin layers of fat there, focusing instead on forcing as much venom into the bite as he could manage.

He pulled back after a moment, licking over the puncture marks and moving on to the other side of his neck before he could even watch the sinew stick themselves back together and close, whispering a quiet warning before sealing his lips over his gaping wound, peeling off the scabs with his tongue and incisors, sucking hard at the open punctures. Ryan jerked underneath him, but the hold Shane had on his shoulder and neck kept him in place, it wasn’t like he was strong enough to get away even if he tried.

He kept at the wound, trying to suck out as much of the toxic venom as possible, only stopping when the cough syrup-like taste was replaced by the delightfully rich burst of Ryan’s blood, prompting him to pull away, licking at the holes to close them before moving back to the other side of his neck and biting down once again, this time closer to his shoulder. It was only seconds after the second bite, seconds after Ryan bit down on his lip to try and hide the sobs shaking his chest, when Shane felt him go still, losing consciousness and slipping away into his own mind where he would not have to experience this pain for a second longer.

And for the first time in over a century, Shane prayed to a God that had long since abandoned him. There was the smallest amount of hope in him that He would listen to his pleads; maybe it would work for once, Ryan deserved as much.

  
**  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (these were directly off of Google Translate so I appologize for any inacuracies):
> 
> “Mój Boże, Jezus chrystusie, nie-” -"My God, Jesus Christ, he didn’t-"  
> Proszę wybacz mi. -Please forgive me


End file.
